


But You're My Big Brother

by wisting



Category: The Almighty Johnsons
Genre: BACKYARD CRICKET, Canon Compliant, F/M, Gen, brotherly issues that possibly hold over into adulthood, brothers squabbling, family violence, kid Johnsons, major Mike and Anders, well a little
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-24
Updated: 2015-04-10
Packaged: 2018-01-09 21:22:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1150935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wisting/pseuds/wisting
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's a particular kind of hurt reserved for when you're betrayed by a sibling. Anders doesn't hold many illusions or have many expectations about justice and fairness, all that sort of idealistic crap, and there's a reason why.</p><p>Chapter 2: not really related (tbh I forgot about it but I kinda like it). Rob's added coma to his name, Mike's back and trying to make amends for being a crappy brother. The younger you are, the easier it is to forgive. Anders isn't that young.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“Out!” crowed Anders.

“No I’m not!”

“You’re out, Ty,” said Mike.“Besides we’d better head back in, it’s almost dinner time.”

“One last round?” said Ty hopefully. “Tie-breaker?”

“Yeah, let me break Ty.”

“No, we have to go. Ty, grab the ball.”

“Loser.” Anders smirked.

“Bully.”

“Sore loser.”

“Small bully.” Ty took off before Anders could tackle him for the jab over his height.

Anders decided that it wasn’t worth it to chase Ty now when he could get him back so much more easily. Besides, it was more fun letting Ty squirm in anticipation of Anders’s revenge.

“Ty! The ball!” Mike yelled after him.

“Then promise Anders won’t attack me!”

“He won’t!” Mike narrowed his eyes at Anders. “You won’t.”

“I won’t,” agreed Anders, then grinned. “Not today.”

“Not ever!” floated Ty’s voice from behind a tree.

“Just get the ball, Ty.”

Cautiously, Ty emerged. Only when he saw Anders a safe distance away did he go to retrieve the ball. As he rejoined them, keeping Mike between him and Anders, Anders suddenly waved his arms and yelled. Ty yelped and leapt behind Mike.

“Sucker,” gloated Anders.

“Mike!”

“Drop it, Anders.”

“You drop it.”

“Planning to grow up any time soon?”

“You’re not the boss of me.”

Mike rolled his eyes. “Get inside and help Mum with dinner while I keep the things –”

By this time they were nearing the house. Raised voices could be heard. All three stiffened, Ty most of all.

“When did he get back?” demanded Anders.

“This is his home too,” said Mike.

“And he fits in here so well.”

“He’s our dad, Anders.”

“And he hits our mum, so?”

“Yeah, well – well – she doesn’t have to provoke him all the time, does she? She knows what he doesn’t like and she still does it anyway.”

“Not all the time,” said Anders. “I can’t believe you’re still defending him. Did you get a brain injury and forget what happened last month?”

Ty dropped the bat and ran in before Mike could grab him.

“One day you’re going to pull your head out and realise that just because he treats you nicer than the rest of us doesn’t mean the sun shines out of his butt,” said Anders. Without waiting for a reply, he took a deep breath, then followed Ty in.

Left alone, Mike’s hand tightened around the cricket bat, dreading what he knew waited for him inside the house. Dropping everything in a pile by the door, he entered the kitchen.

“Dinner is supposed to be ready by six,” Johan was saying. “It’s already quarter past. Where’s my dinner?”

“How was I supposed to know you were even going to be home?” snapped Elisabet as she laid Axl down in his cot in the living room and came back in. “You’ve been gone for three weeks. And I told you, Axl was crying. I can’t ignore him because you can’t wait a little while for your dinner.”

“I have rules. You’re supposed to follow them.”

“I’m doing my best, aren’t I? You’re not handicapped, why don’t you cook dinner for a change?”

“No!” yelled Ty, but too late. Johan hit her and she stumbled back, fury blazing in her eyes.  


“Stop hitting Mum!”

“Stay out of it, Anders,” growled Johan. “And you.” He pointed at Elisabet. “Don’t question what I say again.”

“Shove your chauvinistic crap up your arse,” spat Elisabet, raising her hand. Johan deflected her slap and struck her across the face again, sending her staggering against the cabinet.

Ty ran to her, grabbing her arm so she didn’t fall. “Dad, don’t hit Mum! Please!”

“I said stop hitting Mum!” Anders yelled. “You’re nothing but a coward!”

“Anders, shut up!” Mike grabbed his arm. “You’re just making things worse.”

Anders shook him off. “Uncle Jack would make a much better dad than you any day,” he said viciously.

Johan froze. So did everyone else, holding their breath as he turned on Anders.

“What did you say?”

Anders stared daggers at him. “Uncle Jack would be a much better dad than you,” he repeated defiantly. “He isn’t drunk all the time, and he helps Mike with the farm when you’re out drinking, and he brings us toys, and he’s nice to Mum –”

White to the lips, Elisabet hissed, “Anders, shut _up_.”

But it was too late. Johan turned his head slowly. “So,” he said. “Jack. I’m assuming you’re talking about our neighbour. _Uncle_ Jack now, I see.”

“Don’t touch me, Joe,” said Elisabet, backing away, pulling Ty behind her. “It’s not what you think –”

“Why can’t I touch you? Has _he_ been touching you?”

“No, he hasn’t. I haven’t been – Joe, I haven’t been having an affair, I swear –”

“Is this why you’ve been claiming headaches? Maybe I should send Axl for a paternity test.”

“Dad, please don’t –”

“Ty, just go –”

Flinging her arm up too late, Elisabet reeled as another blow caught her on the corner of her jaw. Ty shouted in fear; Mike swore under his breath, starting forward.

But Anders got there first, shoving Johan away from Elisabet in his own fit of anger. “You’re a pathetic excuse for a father!” he shouted. “You’d deserve it if Mum was sleeping with Uncle Jack, I wish she was, he could take you in a fight, I bet he’s better than you anyway, you’re nothing but a limp-dick coward –”

“ANDERS!” yelled Elisabet and Mike together.

But it was Johan who reacted the fastest. The next thing Anders knew he was on the floor, blood pouring from his nose, the back of his head throbbing with pain.

“Don’t hit Anders!” screamed Ty, running forward.

Johan backhanded him too.

“TY!” cried Elisabet, catching him. “Ty, are you all right?”

But sweet, soft-hearted Ty was suddenly in a blinding rage. “I want to kill you!” he screamed at Johan. “Once I get big enough, I’ll kill you!”

Johan started towards him, looking murderous. Catching his arm, Mike held him back as Elisabet dragged Ty out of the kitchen. Her voice floated back amidst Ty’s yelling, trying to calm him down.

“Dad,” said Mike.

Johan jerked free, looking contemptuously down at Anders. “The next time I warn you to shut your mouth, you better listen,” he said. “Look at you. Small and useless.” As though nothing had happened, Johan grabbed a beer from the fridge and strolled out to the living room. A few moments more and noise from the TV could be heard.

Anders pulled himself to a sitting position, wiping his nose on his sleeve. He looked up at Mike, hurt and anger and pain struggling for dominance on the face of a boy who knew how to wield words like weapons as no eleven-year-old should.

“You idiot,” said Mike.

Anders’s expression froze.

“You bloody moron, you just couldn’t leave it!” hissed Mike. “What was the point of provoking Dad like that?”

“He deserved it!”

“You made everything worse because you couldn’t shut up!”

“He shouldn’t have hit Mum!”

“Yeah, well, thanks to you he hit Mum again. And he hit Ty!”

Mike stalked out of the kitchen. Anders got to his feet. Mechanically, he cleaned up the blood he split on the floor – then suddenly he shoved a pile of dishes off the counter and ran out into the backyard before Johan came to see who broke them.

 _He hit me too_ , he thought. _He hit me too_.

Behind him, he heard Elisabet come down the stairs. “How _dare_ you hit a child!” she screamed. There was a new fury in her voice, a new strength. “How _dare_ you hit Ty!”

Anders sat quietly under the window, listening to his mother throw his father out of the house. Blood from his nose dripped onto his shirt, and he tried vainly to scrub it off. He hated blood. It made him feel sick; another reason why Johan thought him weak.

Over the fields of their farm, the sun was setting, golden and beautiful and incongruous with the shouting voices. Mike’s voice joined the others, defending Johan, trying to calm Elisabet. But out there, beyond their house, it was heaven on earth.

* * *

It’s Johan who hit him. It’s Elisabet who defended Ty but forgot Anders.

But it’s Mike he never entirely forgives.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorta kinda maybe related to the earlier chapter. I'm just shoving it here because I don't know why, maybe because they both deal with Anders-Mike issues. They're more like same universe than a single story.

“I’ll do it, Anders.”

Anders ignored him.

“I said I’ll do it,” he repeated, more loudly.

“Fuck off.”

Mike snatched the shirt away. “Leave it! You’re going to be late for class.”

“What do you care?” said Anders, yanking another piece of wet laundry from the basket and pegging it to the line. “You’re going to shoot through soon anyway.”

“I’m not,” said Mike.

Anders snorted. “Of course you are. You spent the last six months doing that, breezing through and only coming back with a bit of cash when you felt like it, crashing on the sofa and then off again with Rob and Val. Now your playmate’s unconscious, so you’re stuck at home with nothing to do. Once he gets better or you find another wingman you’ll be off again.”

“I won’t. I’m not –” Mike swallowed, images flooding back of bright red blood on green velvet. “Look, I know I haven’t been the greatest brother recently.”

“Yeah, you haven’t,” said Anders. “You’ve been busy having fun. Just like Dad. You shot through and left me with the kids.”

“I know,” said Mike. “I’m sorry. Things are going to change, I’m looking for jobs.”

“Why bother?” Anders snatched the shirt back from Mike. “Go gaming again, it’s much more profitable anyway.”

“I don’t want to.”

“Why not? It’s the only thing you’ve been good at since Mum died.”

“It’s out of the picture and that’s final.” Mike spoke a bit more harshly than he’d meant to.

“Sure,” said Anders. “It’s all your choice anyway, isn’t it, Mikkel? You feel like gambling, you take off with Rob and Val. You decide that you’re feeling guilty over Coma Rob so you stop gambling and cut off basically our only source of income. Now Val’s single, more or less, and you decide to impress her with your dedication to your kid brothers, so here you are at home, offering to hang out the clothes. You give yourself away, Mike, all the time.”

“It’s not about Val!” snapped Mike. “I know I screwed up for a while. Things are going to be different now. I’ll take care of everything. Just get your arse to school before you get expelled. I found the letter yesterday.”

“You went digging through my desk?”

“I was looking for a pen.”

“Yeah, whatever. So now you’ve decided to be Mr Responsibility. What if we don’t need you?”

“Mike?” came Axl’s voice from inside the house.

“Out here, mate,” called Mike.

Running through the door, Axl flung himself on Mike. “Mike you’re home!”

“Of course I am,” said Mike, scooping him up in his arms. “I told you I’d be home.”

“You’re always gone when I wake up.”

“I’ve been here for the past week, Axl.”

“But you were gone for heaps long last time.”

“I know,” said Mike, glancing involuntarily at Anders. A strange expression crossed Anders’s face fleetingly as he watched Axl clinging to Mike.

“Good job, Mike,” Anders said, turning away to finish the laundry. “You’ve already given our baby brother insecurity issues.”

“I’m going to fix things,” said Mike. Axl’s unresentful happiness warmed him, making even Anders’s hostility bearable. “Starting with taking the laundry off your hands so you can get to school on time.”

“How sweet. I think I just threw up a little.”

“I’m hungry,” said Ty, emerging sleepy-eyed from the house.

“I made breakfast,” said Mike.

“Really?” said Ty in surprise.

“Yeah. Your favourite, pancakes like Mum used to make.”

“Bags I the biggest!” shrieked Axl, wriggling until Mike set him down, and the two younger boys raced each other to the kitchen.

“Leave it, Anders,” said Mike. “I made breakfast for you too.”

Again, Anders ignored him.

“I said leave it.” Mike grabbed the clothes from him. The basket too, for good measure.

“Give it back.”

“Go eat your breakfast and get to class. Nobody wants to hire a high school dropout.”

“And that’s all you care about, right, Mike?” said Anders. “Already looking at me, calculating how soon I turn into moneybags and how big the moneybags are going to be, trying to figure out how long more before you can take off for real just like Dad did. Mum’s gone too now, there’s nobody to stop you.”

“That’s not going to happen. I know it’s going to take a while,” Mike said, speaking more loudly as Anders opened his mouth, “but I’ll prove it. You don’t have to take care of Ty and Axl anymore, at least not like you’ve had to. Just concentrate on not failing classes.”

“And just like that, you come along to make everything better.” Anders’s eyes are bright. “You do realise that stopping acting like a total knob isn’t going to make everything go away? You still weren’t there when Axl was crying. You still won’t have been around when Ty was having nightmares about bloody forests. You weren’t there, Mikkel, you weren’t bloody there for anyone but Rob and Val, and they didn’t need you at all. Not like w– not like the kids did.”

“Look, Anders.” Mike tried to choose his words carefully. “Something happened on my 21st.”

“We all know what happened. Mum died.”

“Something else as well.”

“Like what?”

“You’ll understand some day. Just that it made everything different.”

“Yeah,” said Anders. “Like us becoming four bloody orphans and then our big brother takes off on us as well. Don’t pull that you’ll-understand-when-you’re-older shit on me, I don’t need to be twenty-one to understand that you abandoned us for six months when we needed you most.” He yanked the basket out of Mike’s hands. “And guess what? You’re not needed anymore.”

“Oh, please,” scoffed Mike, grabbing it back. “You hate this. Who do you think you’re fooling? You hate responsibility and you hate having to take care of Axl and Ty. And you hate housework. Stop pretending.”

Anders tried to snatch it back, but Mike was stronger and taller than him, and he couldn’t get it. Reddening with uncharacteristic anger, Anders shoved it at Mike, scattering the laundry over the yard.

“You’re right, you prick!” he yelled. “I hate it, you knew it and you still left me stuck with it! You want me to take my hands off all this, get on with my life? I’ll do it. I’m telling you right now, Mikkel. Once I can, I’m gone. I’m out of here.”

“Anders,” said Mike, taken aback.

“I’m done, okay?” Anders said. “I’m done.”

He stormed back into the house. A few minutes more and the front door slammed.

* * *

 

When Anders got back from school, he was his usual self. He even washed the dishes when Mike asked him to. But Mike didn’t forget what Anders said.

And neither did Anders.

**Author's Note:**

> Reason for the slight strain between Mike and Anders in my story Past Bedtime. It doesn't quite fit - unless maybe Johan came back for a little while again before he took off for good. Meh just roll with it.
> 
> Anyway 3-5 implied that Anders sort of sided with Elisabet. But Anders being Anders probably went about it the wrong way like he did when trying to pacify Axl in 3-2. Possibly both times Anders deserved what he got; possibly not. (not not not not not but maaaaaaaybe I'm biased)
> 
> This is how I reconciled Mike's acknowledgement that Johan was a terrible father with how Ty said Mike used to side with Johan.
> 
> Elisabet was a bit harder, how she got abused but also hit back and yet took so long to throw him out. Wondered how a relationship like that would play out :s


End file.
